Page 18 of Christmas Romance Galore!
Jenny laughed. “Very nearly.” She paused, looking around. “I still love this though, you know? The Christmas lights, the cold, the snow — even if it is fake. That’s what drew me to your ad — the Christmas theme.”
I smiled. “I’m glad. Christmas has always been my favourite time of year, hands down.” An image of my dad in a Santa hat popped into my head. I pushed it away.
“I love Christmas in Oz too, with the barbies on the beach in your shorts and thongs,” Jenny added. “But Christmas as depicted in all the films and songs is cold, so it’s great to experience it. When I go back to Oz, I plan to buy some fake snow.”
“Do you have plans to move back soon?”
She nodded. “Not imminent, but I only have a five-year visa. So it’s going to be in the next couple of years.” She looked me dead in the eye. “Unless I find a gorgeous English wife to persuade me otherwise, of course. I’m open to offers.”
Jenny gave me a lazy smile, and then before I could think of an appropriate riposte, she kissed me. Her lips were moist and she tasted of alcoholic apples and cinnamon.
When she pulled away a few seconds later, I opened my eyes, surprise radiating from them. I’d only had one drink but the car park spun with possibility. I grinned. “That’s what I like about Aussies — never shy about coming forward.”
She licked her lips, then dropped her gaze to my lips once more before replying. “I always figure if you find someone you like, you shouldn’t leave it ambiguous, or wait till you’re both too drunk to remember. You should let them know straight off the bat — no messing. And I like you, you’re cute. Plus, you’re very English, and I love English.”
My smile grew wider. “Is that right?” I replied. “Well I couldn’t be more English if I tried, so you’re in luck!” I skipped over my dad’s Spanish roots for the purpose of story-telling for tonight. My mum was from Croydon, so I was sure that tipped the balance.
I poured the contents of my mug down my throat and held it up. “You want some more?” I asked.
Jenny smirked at me before pressing her lips to mine once more. I could get used to this.
After a few seconds she pulled back, her breath still on my face, her eyelids fluttering wildly.
“Yes, please,” she replied.
I’d never heard a woman purr before, but there was a first time for everything.
After drinks and an incredible burrito from the food truck of the moment, we’d decamped to the outdoor pop-up disco nextdoor, bumping and grinding in our coats and hats, breath circling above us, mulled cider cooling in our mugs. The air was rich with the smell of hot, sugary drinks and pine ferns, and we were on a magical Christmas journey that ended with a Tube back to Jenny’s place.
We re-emerged to street level just after 10.30pm, the night air holding an extra chill now. Jenny’s house was only five minutes’ walk away, but it wasn’t until we got inside that I realised how much she was living the Aussie London dream, sharing the house with nine other people.
Our magical Christmas date bubble burst with a loud bang when we walked into the lounge and found a slew of bodies on the sofas and floor watching The Big Bang Theory. The room smelt of cheap deodorant and beer.
“Hey everyone — this is Tori.” Jenny twirled me around as if she’d just bought me in a shop.
There was a general murmur of hello from the group.
“Okay, see ya later!”
Jenny took my hand once more and led me into the kitchen, which reminded me of student days gone by. The counters were stacked with dirty dishes, the sink full too, and overhead, an old-fashioned washing line was full of someone’s off-white underwear. I wasn’t sure the kitchen was the best place to be drying laundry.
Jenny, however, took it all in her stride. “Hazards of living with so many people!”
She smiled, handed me a glass of water and led me up two flights of stairs to her room, which was compact to say the least. Squeezed into the space was her unmade double bed shoved against a wall, an Ikea wardrobe and a small desk which was overflowing with empty water bottles and jewellery — rings, necklaces and bracelets. Plus, lying on the small slice of floor running down the right of her double bed was a pink sleeping bag, scrunched up and lying on top of a yoga mat.
I pointed towards it. “You expecting company?”
She nodded. “Yeah — my friend Edie is staying at the moment. She’s over from Sydney for a month, but we’ve got too many people in the lounge so she’s taking my floor.” Jenny paused, then kissed me again. Her lips were dry. “Don’t worry though,” she added. “Edie knows the score, so she won’t disturb us. If I bring someone back, she knows to give me some space.”
Thump — another blow to my ego. I was just another in a long line of Jenny hook-ups. Even Edie was in on the secret, and she’d been here less than a month. I’d fallen for Jenny’s lines and now here I was, about to have sex with her. Or I could leave. Should I leave? Then again, Jenny was attractive and I’d always been taught never to look a gift horse in the mouth. I wasn’t about to start now.
It turned out that Jenny was a one-woman sexual whirlwind — she hadn’t waited to kiss me, and she didn’t stand on ceremony in the bedroom either. Within minutes, my shirt was off and she was sucking my breasts between her teeth, her hands roaming my back. This was a well-rehearsed routine. Another five minutes and I was naked, lying flat on my back on her bed, Jenny looming above me. Her hair fell on to my breasts and all this without shedding a single stitch of clothing. Jenny was such a top.
And then she tried to fuck me, only she kept hitting the target, then missing.
Honestly, she kept missing. It took me back to my early years, almost making me feel nostalgic. Almost.
“Ow!” I said, jumping as her fingers stabbed me for the third time. We’d drunk a few ciders so I wasn’t expecting finesse, but this was something else.
